


You're Dumped

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	1. You're Dumped

His girlfriend was wearing one of the skimpiest outfits in the world, so he didn’t make much of a fuss when she said she wanted to take him out for a surprise. Blindfolded, she drove him somewhere far off, hours away from home, and explained to him the situation. She was tired of the lies, the insults, and the occasional punking session, and had decided that he needed some “adjustment.” She had kept faithful, after all, even though he was a short, feminine boy that wasn’t packing much, she told him. Wasn’t it only fair she got her share of the fun, after all?

She kept him on a leash, blindfolded, and led him out of the car, down a gravel driveway, and through a door, which she closed ominously behind him. She ignored his increasingly distressed inquiries about where they were or “what was going on.” His complaints all but ended when she sat him down in a chair and started to undress him. But then, something off happened: she started to redress him. And she tied his hair up, once on each side. She slipped new shoes on, boots, in fact, and then told him to stand. He nearly fell over. He was wearing heels. She fastened something in the front, and he could feel cold metal on his bum. Bewildered and slightly embarrassed, he asked her to explain but she was silent as the grave, and merely pulled him by his leash and led him down a flight of stairs, not without difficulty.

She wrapped something around his hands and told him to lift his arms up. His patience wearing thin, he yelled for her to explain, and she told him to wait just one more minute. When he tried to let his arms fall, they stayed up; she had tied them to something. “What are you doing?” he said, and she finally undid the blindfold. She let go of the leash as he looked up at the wall: a brick, featureless wall, covered in mildew and dust, and adorned with only a single decoration: a sign that read, in his girlfriend’s handwriting, “You’re Dumped!” She picked up something; it was a can or a bucket, and a moment later, he felt her stroking along the inside of the metal thing, revealing it to be shaped like a ring, and then smeared something sticky and warm thoroughly on his backside. She placed the can down, and he could see it read “lube.” She grabbed hold of the leash and giggled. Before he could find any words, he recognized a presence: there was someone else in the basement. The mystery participant had a fairly embellished view of him, and he blushed at the thought, but never before had he blushed so crimson as when the person, whom he could not see, approached directly behind him, and he could tell by the sound of work boots on concrete that the person was a man.

The man put one hand on the wall beside him, hovering over the shackled boyfriend. His legs were spread at shoulder width, as he was unaccustomed to standing in heels, and he struggled to stand even in such a gait. The location of the man’s other hand became obvious with the sound of a belt buckle, followed by the soft thud of pants hitting the floor. Something was placed inside of the ring, and his now ex-girlfriend chuckled to herself again. With the unseen hand steadying it and guiding it, it had little trouble finding the entrance to the boy’s unexplored depths, much to his panicked realization. He started to squirm, and the girlfriend pulled tightly on the leash. He tried to free his hands as the man beside him started to apply pressure forward, his hips eagerly pumping forward in anticipation of the future, but the ropes were too tight. With the warm lube now coating it thoroughly, the man lurched forward, and the boy’s toes curled in his boots. He bit his lip and hoped more than anything that the metal ring would be the last to be filled.

With the softest of pops, barely audible, the sphincter gave up the fight, opening slightly, allowing the tip entry. With his hand now having served its purpose, it joined its counterpart on the other side of the wall, surrounding the boy completely. He grunted and swore, and using only the small, inevitable thrust of his hips, the man was able to feed it inch by inch into the boy’s shapely, unwilling, tight butt, while his girlfriend laughed and laughed and muttered helpful “advice” to the boy under her breath.

Soon the boy, whose legs were thoroughly tired and whose ass was impossibly filled, felt the man press up against his cheeks: proof that he was now familiar with his full, impressive length. The girlfriend clapped, and the man let out a satisfied moan, before speaking his first words: “look ma, no hands.” With that, he pulled out halfway, and started to do some clapping of his own. The basement was silent aside from the echo of hip against cheek as the man thoroughly explored and stretched the boy’s backdoor. The boy was sweating profusely, teetering on his heels and struggling to break free, but in spite, or because of all of this, was also leaking precum onto the concrete floor. His ex-girlfriend pointed it out, but the man had other interests: namely, pounding eight inches of man-meat into the boy’s distended gut. He increased his pace to the point that the boy couldn’t adjust to the intrusion, so he grit his teeth and sucked in air. The claps got louder and the thrusts deeper, and the precum pooled on the floor.

His hands never leaving the wall, so that the only place the two were touching was the boy’s colon, the man exhaled sharply and the boy felt it a terrified second later as the man unloaded forcefully into his formerly virgin bowels. To the girlfriend’s surprise, the boy moaned girlishly, and suddenly sticky globs of white, thick spunk joined the translucent precum on the floor. It took her a second to realize what had happened, and when she did, she nearly killed herself laughing, almost muffling the audible plop as the man pulled it out. She stared into the ring, at her boyfriend’s gaping anus, and grinned devilishly, as she heard the second member of the team, likely the pitcher, walk in.


	2. You're Dumped (Again)

She saw it on the news. Embittered girlfriend pimps out her lover to a baseball team. The newsreaders met the story with shock and outrage. She had a different reaction.

She was too "plane Jane" for him. Whenever a girl with an "alternative" streak walked by, his eyes wandered. As far as she knew, he'd never acted on it, but the gaze was enough. It drove her a little... crazy.

He woke tied to a chair, in an unrecognizable basement. He felt... different, but couldn't discern why. The solitary light in the room was blinding at first, and then too dim, casting a dull light on the silhouette of his captor. She was dressed for her part: black latex thigh-highs and skin-tight suit. He tried to speak, but something obstructed him. She explained that it was a ballgag. It was so large, it hurt his lips.

He struggled to break free, but the duct-tape binding him was wound several times over. She stepped to the side, and behind her was a mirror, which allowed him to see how he was dressed. She'd made him up, dyed his hair watermelon, and he too was wearing a shiny outfit, in a rather peculiar cut. When he looked back to her, furious, she held something up with her fingertips, displaying it for him to see: a cutesy pair of panties with a certain recognizable feline mascot across the front and back. It did't make sense to him, at first, but then it clicked: that was the unseen portion of the outfit.

She explained further. She'd made him dress and look like his ideal, so that he could experience the same lurid stares that he'd had given. Just like that, he noticed a presence in the room. Notably, numerous presences.

And so she elaborated. She'd told their guests that "she" wanted to do a BDSM scene... gagged and bound. She explained to him that he certainly is going to be "fucked" tonight, as she'd promised. He was going to get fucked right in his tight, little virgin hole. He always wanted anal, she said, and now he was going to get it - hard. He was going to have a whole bunch of sex... on the receiving end. He was going to get it, alright; eight inches up his colon. He tried to protest, but the gag prevented him from being intelligible. He tried to yell, to twist, to struggle... before going limp, defeated. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of watching him squirm. He just has to... resign himself.

He tries to remain calm, even as people started to enter into view. Men. All of them staring at the punk-looking girl in the latex shorts. Bound as he was, he couldn't run, and he couldn't escape from their stares. He had tried to maintain eye-contact, but his gaze kept falling to the worryingly obvious bulges in each of their pant legs. It was possible to tell who dressed left, and who dressed right. It was also possible to tell who technically qualified as a tripod.

They all watched the girl with hunger, and "she" tried not to show her shock, or horror, or disgust, but "hey" eyes were wide as saucers. Her body language communicated that she felt small, helpless, and full of anticipation and anxiety: but not for the reasons they expected.

He kind of hoped they'd discover what was off about the situation quickly enough, and turn their amorous intentions on his girlfriend, instead. But he knew that none of them were going to see those kitty panties stretched and filled by something they weren't intended to hold. He could clearly see the proof of their manhoods, but none of them could see his. They only saw the girl, with her dyed hair and her ball gag and her big butt and the way she tried to turn them on by playing shy and cute.

She was helped to her feet by two of them, and brought over to an unadorned table. When they bent her over it, she went into a panic. She could feel there was fabric missing in a very particular reason on the seat of the shorts, and if there had been a kitty on the seat of the panties, it was sitting somewhere else now, because it certainly wasn't protecting her backside.

The domineering girlfriend took the honor of lubing, and when that was done, the first guy lined himself behind the squirming punk girl, and her silent, angry defiance suddenly became quite vocal. She whined and she hummed unintelligibly, turning her face from side to side, pressed against the cold surface, but nevertheless, she was penetrated. She was face-down ass-up on a desk, getting anally violated by some random guy.

She groaned helplessly around the ballgag, trying to sound angry and defiant and indignant, but they just interpreted it as hoarse moans of passion and feeling. She tried to communicate the only way she could: with her ass, but the more she pushed, the smaller her anal virginity got.

Finally, he bottomed out, seemingly, touching his hips to her rear-end in an extremely final gesture of deflowering. He let out a moan as her poor, defiled, agonized insides spasmed around him, tight as a finger trap even though it wasn't his finger he'd just pushed up her ass. He cooed at her, oh baby, oh baby, but he doesn't mean to do it, and is in fact trying to stop the frenzied, reversed paristalsis that is milking him so strongly. She tried to adjust, mentally and physically, pretending that it was just a big, experimental toy. Meanwhile, her very-real paramour was enjoying the massage.

Even though he was already pressed aginst her backside, he pushed his hips forward, pressing into her cushiony, plump rear, sinking the last untainted inch of his cock into her heavenly hole, breaking her out of her reverie and nestling his pubic hair on her stretched, squeezing hole.

Suddenly, everyone started clapping.

"She" had forgotten that there were even other people. Anywhere. And she promptly forgot it again when the cock in her pooper started to move, out at first, and then back in again. She tried to wiggle her hips to avoid catching the fuck, but no matter what she did, her ass was going to get pumped and good. Just as his girlfriend had promised, a man was having sex with "her,"... the only way he could, although he didn't know that. Another little round of applause went out when it became obvious that he was laying her pipe, and they interpreted her cross-eyed expression as one of intense feeling; which it was, but that feeling was "my poor ass..."

After several minutes of rump-roasting, the man suddenly let out a loud grunt, and her attempts to dislodge him failed as he blasted a load in her rear. As soon as he was finished, he lightly tapped her butt and pulled out, only to be quickly replaced with another man, who lined himself up behind her, dick in hand, and then fed it to her, anally, forcing it in with all the class and technique of a moron with a tack hammer and duct dape fixing a chair.

One after another, the men took turns stuffing "her" ass, and each time "she" tried to resist, only for them to inevitably succeed in pushing the full lengths of their shafts up "her" poopchute, filling "her" colon with their meat, before pounding "her" pooper for several minutes before shooting their sticky wads up the depths of her shitpit, while she struggled in futility to assert that their romantic advances weren't what "she" desired.

The first time a cock had pulled free from her warm, unwilling, slippery hole, it had closed as soon as it could, trapping the results of their lovemaking somewhere inside her bowels, where it sat as a goopy reminder of her humiliation. By the fifth, it started to remain slightly open, looking confused, and the gape only became more and more pronounced with each new sodomy session. It started out dime shaped, and then it was penny shaped, then nickel, then quarter, and by the time it was a half-dollar, more than a dozen men had left their contributions, which by then were visible within, a veritable lake of semen left their by lovers who hadn't also left their names. Which wasn't to say they weren't affectionate; they rubbed "her" shoulders, they spanked "her" ass, they called her "baby" and "honey" while they humped away at her backside; while they humped their cocks up into her asshole over and over again, they made sure to be perfect gentlemen. One even said "thank you," right before shoving it all the way up her butt in one stroke, and then creaming wildly in her belly. The most embarassing moment was actually mutual, as one overly-excited suitor lined himself up behind "her," placed the tip up to the hole, eased himself forward at it in, and then overcome by the sensation prematurely ejaculated up "her" ass. While it spared her the in-and-out, the result was an incredibly awkward moment during which he attempted to hide the fact that he came, only to whisper a bashful "sorry," as he withdrew, having already left more bubbly, energetic jizz in her bottom, in the part of her bowels where she now kept men's loads.

Unlike her inspiration, when all was said and done, the jealous girlfriend was nowhere to be found. Her boyfriend's sphincter was queerly open, opening and closing while "she" took laboured breaths, as relieved that the ordeal was over as she was buttfucked, which was extremely. She debated trying to push out all the semen they'd pumped in her, a proportionately small but still copious amount of which was visible dripping sadly from her gaping anus and pooling inside of it. The pressure was uncomfortable, and having the proof-pudding sitting in and inflating her bowels was demoralizing, but she didn't want to show them just how much there was. She felt a rumbling in her tummy, and a moment later had little choice in the matter, as it shot out in jet, splattering across the floor like spunk buckshot.

She felt immense relief and shame at the same time, her tubes no longer pumped burstingly full, but her performance was met with applause and cheering. Her mind couldn't let go of how much semen she'd received; it dripped odwn into her underwear, coating her pouch in slime, and then down her thighs. A bubble emerged, white and nearly opaque, and though she wiggled her hips to try and pop it, it persisted. It wasn't the most humiliating thing that refused to deflate, however, as she was harder than she'd ever been. None of the men had popped that particular baloon with the ways they'd taken her, which she was somewhat thankful for, as creaming her panties while being anally ravaged would have been too much to bear, but it would have similarly been a blissful release of semen where far too much was pent up and ready to go; and sticky panties are nothing in comparison to being so erect it hurts.

(Un)fortunately, one of the men wasn't quiet done with her. Just to inspect, he eased a finger inside, and while she was indignant that he'd done so as if it belonged to him, she couldn't very much feel it after all she'd endured... until he started to move it around, trying to see if there was any man goo still clogging her pipes. He swiveled it up, around, left, and right, and she groaned. Finally, he probed downwards... and found something hard. Her moan around the ballgag said one thing, and one thing only: keep doing that. Even if her heart said otherwise. She tried to communicate that... anh... she didn't want him to... unh... rub that... uhnnn... but it was too late. She felt her hole clench around his finger, and instantly filled her panties to the brim with her very own wasted sperm goo, rolling her eyes up as she flooded her underwear with her unintentional ejaculate, before passing out entirely, with her bemused hero's finger still trapped in her bum, after he inadvertantly forced "her" to "squirt" violently by rubbing his finger on "her" anal g-spot.

When she came too, her ass was sore, her thighs were sticky, her panties were adhering to her, she'd drooled considerably around the gag (although that wasn't the only liquid on her face, as apparently one of her companions had left her a parting gift), and she was alone, but untied. She tried not to imagine the laughter while some strapping young gentleman was blowing a steaming wad in her sleeping face, the moneyshot that he creamed all over her face without first verifying whether she was okay with that or, as the case was, whether she had a penis. Of course, the moneyshot that bothered her most ended up all over Hello Kitty's face. She gathered herself, took a deep breath through her nose... and let another slimy mess out of her ass. The jealous girlfriend was, by then, miles away.


	3. You're Dumped (Tri)

Troy had been trying to get with his old girlfriend Sanka for months, but she had made it very clear that she never wanted to have anything to do with him after the affair. He thought with time and distance she’d eventually warm up again, but she barely acknowledged his existence. Rumor had it that she had a new boyfriend, but he never met him. He’d finally gotten used to the idea that she was never going to take him back (or give him a booty call), when one day, while he was on his way home from work, he got a voicemail from her. He listened to it once, then twice, and when he got home away from the hustle and noise of traffic, he listened to it a third time, just to make sure he was hearing it correctly.

“Hey, Troy, this is Sanka. I know I said I didn’t want to ever see you again… and I’m standing by that, but, I have a favor to ask of you. I showed one of my girlfriends your picture and she told me she wanted to meet up with you, no matter what I said. So, I don’t know if you’re interested… she is pretty cute, and she seems like your type. I figured I’d make a show of peace, but I just want to be clear: we’re over, still. Anyway, if you’re interested in a hookup, just text me and I’ll send you all the details.”

In the silence of his apartment, Troy was stunned to confirm that he’d heard what he’d heard. Sanka had always been pretty jealous, and he couldn’t believe that she’d be willing to set him up with one of her friends. He guessed it was her way of showing, definitively, that she was over him. That rustled him a bit, but the idea that a cute friend of hers was hot for him was more than enough of tantalizing detail to push that from his mind. He responded almost immediately.

“who/where/when/how? i’m down for that. how r u babe?”

He put his phone down, still in shock, but with a creeping sense of smugness that was overriding his reason. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge, took off his shirt, and sat down on the sofa. As soon as he’d settled comfortably, he heard the buzzing of the vibrating phone on the kitchen table, and sighed, exasperated. With a regretful grunt, he kicked his legs out and got to his feet again, walking over to the buzzing, glowing nuisance. When he picked it up, he saw that she’d already fired off a lengthy response. His curiosity piqued.

“I’m fine. Her name’s Natalie. She wanted to meet you ASAP, somewhere neutral. I’m going to be out all day tomorrow, so I told her you two could meet at my place, if you don’t-”

The text ended, and he went on to the next one.

“-make a mess. I’m going to be honest; Natalie’s sort of a freak. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ‘ambushed’ you. Not anything dangerous, I mean. Just, you know, she’s into-“

He clicked to the next text, his pulse rising.

“-self-bondage… and blind hook-ups… and she has… ‘coercion’ fantasies. Hopefully you’re down with all that? If you are, I’m sure you’ll both have a good time. Especially since Nat likes it the wrong way.”

His eyes had widened more and more with each word. When he reached the end, he checked to see if there was another text, but nothing came. Tentatively, he texted her back.

“what u mean?”

He waited, phone in hand, for the reply. The phone vibrated, and he clicked into the text.

“How do I put it politely… well, I guess you could say she likes it up the ass. She’s sort of an anal queen. A buttwhore, you could say. If that’s fine with you… 8:30 tomorrow at my place. She’ll be waiting.”

He swallowed, hard. It wasn’t the only thing that was hard. He dreamt that night of Natalie, the cute, bouncy co-ed that liked it in her shitpipe, and all was good with the world.

When he got to Sanka’s place the next day, he knocked on her front door, but there was no answer. He was about to ring the bell when he noticed the door was slightly ajar, so he slipped inside, closing it behind him. Her house was dark, and there didn’t seem to be anyone around… until he heard heels clacking on the floor in the living room. Slowly, quietly, he took each step, trying to find the source of the noise without alerting them to his presence. When he came into the room, what he saw nearly made him tear his pants in half. There was, presumably Natalie, her hands tied up and her legs forced open, facing away from him, almost naked. On the coffee table next to her was a box whose purpose was clear. It said, in bold font, “ANAL LUBE.”

\---

Nathaniel arrived promptly at 6; he didn’t like to keep Sanka waiting. When she told him she was finally acquiescing to his request (more like his begging) to bring in one of her friends, he was… eager, to say the least. When she brought him to her bedroom and he saw the lingerie laid out on the bed, including thigh-high stockings and high heels, he got even more excited. When she told him that he was going to be the one wearing it… he felt a flush of embarrassment, but nodded, knowing it was the price of admission. If two girls wanted to play dress up with him for the night, he wasn’t going to turn that offer down, even if it did make him self-conscious.

She dressed him, dolled him up with make-up, tied up his hair, and even gave it a little temporary Halloween dyejob, treating the ends with fire-engine red. It was really hard for him to walk in the heels, so he wobbled after her into the living room, where she revealed her manacles. She had him hold his hands out in front of him, and she clasped the manacles shut. Climbing up onto a footstool, she shackled him to the ceiling via a hook that he’d never seen before. His anxiety only grew when she produced another bondage implement – a spreader bar, which she locked to his heels, forcing his legs apart. He was about to voice his concern when she affixed the tape to his lips.

Sanka reached up to his hips, and carefully rolled down the panties that Nat was wearing over his rear, down to his thighs. She slapped something onto his cheek, and then slowly pulled it off, and though he couldn’t see it, he recognized it as a temporary tattoo. Then, nonchalantly, she walked away from him. She rustled through her handbag, and then placed something on coffee table, and then, without warning, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked away, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, until the sound faded entirely. Nat waited… but she didn’t return. Then, the first inkling of panic set in.

He looked over his shoulder frantically to try and analyze the situation. Sanka was gone, and he seemed alone… if her friend was coming over, she was definitely going to be playing on his domination fetish, but somehow, being dressed like a ho with a star tattoo on her butt left him uneasy. He kept surveying the situation, something he had failed to do while Sanka was leading him around on a leash, and eventually he spotted it.  
On the corner table, sitting hidden in plain sight, was a generic looking pharmacy box. On it, in bright yellow lettering, though difficult to make out in the dark, were the words in bolded font, “ANAL LUBE”. He stared at in shock, his heart beating fast in his chest, his breaths coming uneven, his anus tightening.

He couldn’t wriggle free of the restraints at all, and he already heard footsteps. His mind raced. One after another, he imagined his girlfriend’s sex toys, their shape, texture, and size. He didn’t know which one of them Sanka’s friend was going to be introducing to his hindquarters, but he wanted to mentally prepare himself for any of them. The long, slender dildo, the studded one, the curvy one with the extra bit on it, or, of course, the plugs. Of course, it was entirely possible that Sanka’s friend was bringing her own silicon fun, and Sanka had just thoughtfully left her the boyfriend-emasculating jelly she would need to, well, emasculate her boyfriend. He imagined a blonde knockout wearing a big purple strap-on, gripping his thighs and going to town, and he had to admit, while the prospect was terrifying, and his ass wouldn’t be able to take it, there were worse things you can do to pass the time. It just so happened that, once the footsteps got closer, he got to see his first glimpses of one of them.

Sanka’s friend was blond, alright, and stacked, but there was only one problem. Sanka’s friend was a guy. A big guy. Nat hoped beyond hope that he was just a meter-reader or a pizza delivery guy who walked in on an embarrassing scene, but when Nat saw the look on his face, and the bulge in his crotch, those hopes were dashed against the rocks of reality.

\---

Troy used two fingers to apply the lube between Natalie’s cheeks, who in turn did her very best to try and communicate… something to him, urgently. Those communications became more urgent when Troy politely introduced a finger into previously uncharted territory to lube the interior, a necessary and vital step in preparation for the much-larger non-finger he was planning to introduce into Natalie’s unfortunate rear. Natalie groaned into her gag as he swiveled his finger inside as deep as it could go, to get lube all over Natalie’s alternative (substitute) lovehole. Recognizing that, at present, she was way too tight, he helpfully inserted another finger, although Natalie didn’t appreciate the thoughtfulness, nor the fullness. His attempts at foreplay (and preparing Nat’s tight ass for the uncomfortable stretching it was about to receive) made Nat writhe, which he took as a good sign. He thought about giving her a bit of a hand up front, but then decided against it. If she wanted to get off with her ass, he was going to give her what she wanted, even if she probably should have asked Sanka if Troy was the man for the job. Not that he couldn’t give it good, but, he knew that she might regret it after.

Satisfied that her pooper had been sufficiently prepped, he pulled his fingers out with a wet schlopping noise. Natalie’s hole closed again, slightly leaking the lube that he’d carefully greased up her pipe with. He debated pulling off her tape gag and having her clean off his fingers, but wasn’t sure if she’d be into that and, more importantly, he wanted to get to the main event as quickly as possible. Just to be sure that she had all the prepping she needed, he grabbed the tube, pressed the tip slightly into her recently frisked asshole, and squeezed it as hard as he could, filling her butt up with the slimy goo. When he stood up and backed away to see her reaction, she shivered, and some more lube leaked out, down her cheek, and thigh, and some onto the floor. So much for not making a mess. Troy put the lubetube down for a second, and unfastened his belt. When his pants dropped to the floor, Natalie’s eyes once again went wide.  
\---

Still recovering from having his bowels irrigated by anal lube (and still feeling the slippery mess in there), he heard a belt buckle, and frantically turned to look. Sanka’s friend’s pants hit the floor, along with his tightey whities. And then, in the very same mental picture that was sure to haunt his nightmares for days to come, he saw both the dripping bottle of lube and the dripping, fully erect, cock. His futile wriggling got more intense, and his sphincter automatically snapped shut, his pucker tightening up as much as it could given that he’d just been fingerbanged. It looked like a monster. When Sanka’s friend walked closer, he couldn’t see it anymore, but he could still sense its presence. When he put his arms around Nat’s waist, he felt it between his cheeks, hot and rigid. Troy’s hands went down his abdomen, towards his pubic region, but didn’t go far enough to reveal Sanka’s trickery. Nat trembled, in teeth-clenching anticipation.

He could feel and see the one hand on his hip, but he didn’t have to see where his other hand had gone to know where it was. He could hear the slick noise as it prepped his girlfriend’s impromptu marital aide, and there was no doubt he was going to use that hand to guide his beef missile where it was going, which, given the tape gag, the wrist-bindings and the spreader bar, was somewhere no man had gone before. Somewhere snug, specifically.

 

With his hips wiggling as best they could, the big lunk had a hard time finding his mark, although the occasional near-miss meant that Nat knew what it felt like to have a cock tip requesting permission to enter into paradise, where “paradise” here was played by Nat’s endangered rear entrance. Eventually, Troy got tired of the game, and slapped “her” ass hard enough to make Nat see stars, which got the unfortunate butt stunned still for a second, long enough for Troy to get the positioning right, and long enough for him to try and apply pressure up towards Nat’s greased chute.

He could feel his sphincter’s resistance giving way, and panicked. Rationally, he knew unless men burst through the door with guns at that very moment, it was going to happen. A mistake of really embarrassing proportion was about to be made. He wanted to warn Troy that he was barking up the wrong tree, that he was shoving his sausage in a fellow sausage-owner, but with the gag in place, all he could say was…

“Mmf… mmf... mmmf! MMMFGGHHH…”

At a certain point, enough resistance gave way to lubrication, insistence and exhaustion, and something lurched about half an inch forward. That “thing,” of course, was the glans of a man’s penis, and “forward” here meant “into,” specifically “into Nat’s well-lubed, well-prepped, unwilling ass.” Nat’s eyes crossed a bit, and his eyebrows twitched nervously, and he let out an exasperated half-sigh, half-groan that seemed to say a combination of “oof, that’s a big one,” and “you moron, that’s my asshole! You just put your cock up my asshole!”  
He started to tremble and wiggle his hips to either dislodge or relocate the intruder more comfortably. He hung his head, and steeled himself. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but it still itched, burned, and already felt a little sore, stretching open as wide as it was. The psychological aspect he was wisely avoiding by focusing his mental energy on calling Troy various variations of “big-dicked ignoramus.” Shame and anger competed in his mind, with at least part of that anger going towards his back-stabbing girlfriend (although the literal back-stabber got his fair share). If this was her idea of a joke, she was insane; if she thought he wanted this… she was still crazy, and a bitch. He’d toyed with the idea, but the reality wasn’t exactly going how he wanted, though knowing Troy was as duped as he was made it easier to cope. That, and his girlfriend’s panties had gotten cramped.

 

Troy took his hand off of his big guy, now that it had been properly introduced to Natalie’s ass, and placed it on Natalie’s other hip. He licked his lip, and let Nat adjust to his girth, because she had to adjust to that before he wrecked her with his length. If this girl was into deep anal dicking, he was going to give it to her, and he was going to make sure she was going to remember how big, long and hard he was. Still, he knew to take baby steps. She had definitely never had one as big as his before, by her reaction, and the fact that she was plugged perfectly tight. She had a nice ass, but it was that tight hole that was going to work him over.

 

Nat looked over his shoulder to assess the danger. With both hands on his hips, there was nothing holding his widowmaker in place but ‘Natalie’s’ utterly perplexed hole. He couldn’t see the part that had settled in between his cheeks, but the tube of meat leading back to his body, the unburied portion connecting the two of them, made Nat’s eyes go wide in terror. He looked at Troy’s face, but turned away when he saw his grin, and stared straight ahead, and got ready to defend against Troy’s attack.  
Troy took that as readiness, gripped tight for a second to warn her he was about to continue, and then urged his own hips forward, making Nat moan anal frustration, not lust, as Troy interpreted it, into the gag, his face flushing red with embarrassment as he was inadvertently losing his anal virginity inch by inch.

The next few minutes consisted of shoving and groaning, as a virgin ass gave more and more ground inevitably to a turgid, eager cock. Drool started to seep through the gag, as Nat had difficulty keeping his mouth closed while Troy kept his rear hole open. Troy either gripped “her” hips or groped “her” buttcheeks, placing his hands flat against them and shifting them around his embedded, rock-hard schlong, or pulling them apart so that he could see his progress in real time, her too-tight hole accepting him bit by bit. When he did that, Nat could feel every bump on it as it sunk inside, and much preferred he kept his hands on his hips or even shoulders if it meant less ass-grabbing. Nat knew the trick to anal was to push out like you’re using the bathroom, and made good use of that, but even with that, the lube, and the forced leg-spreading, Troy was too big comfort, although not too big for penetration. Unfortunately, he had more in common at present with the princess from the Princess and the Pea story than Goldilocks. As more and more of it invaded her hole, she went cross-eyed and started to sweat, unable to cope. When Troy started to thrust in and out a bit, her eyes went wide, and then he suddenly lurched forward.

That proved too much for Nat, who managed to kick back at Troy a bit, which made him retract a few inches, which was a relief. He put more lube on the part of his cock that had recently vacated Natalie’s hole, and then started to push forward again. Realizing it was still too much, Nat pushed back at him with his butt, a counterattack that proved ill-advised when Troy drove it all the way home in response, all the way up Natalie’s guts.

It made a squishing noise as it utterly filled Nat’s bowels, which Nat did not hear over their own eye-rolling groan. It was such a sudden butt-filling that Natalie didn’t have time to notch it off their bucket list before they felt the heat of Troy’s body pressed up against their girly derriere. They continued to groan hoarsely as Troy tapped their hips lightly against their cheeks, barely moving the actual hard, dick-shaped mass that had displaced a large portion of Nat’s rectum. Nat’s sphincter sucked on the base, aching, but like its owner, submissive. All of Natalie’s other anal rings gripped tightly onto the invading, tremendous mass, clearly defining and adhering to its shape, measuring its rigidity and sheer hardness in terms of constipated aching. There was a big, hard cock in Natalie’s butt, and it was pulsing in the cramped space that it so enjoyed, even though it had absolutely no spare room to do so. Eventually, Nat managed to turn their constant groan into the occasional frustrated high-pitched grunt, and the first part of their anal ordeal hit a denouement, as their big, dumb anal penetrator started to withdraw his unit bit by bit so he could get to the fun part.  
\---

Sanka sat wrapped in blankets, a warm cup of cocoa in her hands, as she stared, transfixed, at her computer. It was cold in the basement, and felt even colder with the lights off, but what she saw warmed her cold, black little heart. It had been all over the news: the crazy girlfriend that let a minor league baseball team run a train on her boyfriend, and then ended up turning herself in to the police. Then the copycat, who disappeared after she staged a gangbang for her boyfriend, who she dressed up in ‘alt-girl’ attire for some reason that made sense only to her. Her last known whereabouts were a few miles from the Mexican border. Sanka’s plan wasn’t nearly as evil, she told herself. There was one (1) guy, well, two, if you counted the emasculated sissy that was her current boyfriend. Her boyfriend had expressed interest in bringing in a relief pitcher, and hadn’t objected too loudly when she suggested it could be a man. He’d been so insistent and passive aggressive about it, and her old boyfriend had been so insistent and aggressive-aggressive about hooking up with her again, she thought it was only appropriate that the two of them worked out their aggression in their respective roles: Troy in the aggressive, ignorant position, his favorite one, and “Natalie” in the passive, bitchy position, which was his. And would it be so wrong to broadcast the whole thing via webcam? Of course not. Would it be so wrong to use multiple cameras, hidden around the living room? She didn’t think so.

The other people subscribed to the webcast were a mixed bunch. Some were aware of the duplicitous nature of the act, and they had a betting game going. The odds for ‘finds out the secret, leaves in disgust’ were high, the odds for ‘finds out the secret, goes ahead anyway’ were slightly lower, and the odds for ‘dumbass doesn’t notice, plugs his ex’s boyfriend’s ass for fifteen minutes, leaves a steaming load in what he thinks is a girl’s butt’ were low. It definitely looked like that camp was going to win their 2:1. Troy didn’t seem to have the slightest inclination that anything was wrong, even though, from the underneath camera, the truth was obvious.

From that vantage point, they could see Nat’s perineum ending on one side with no va-jay-jay in sight and with the other side ending in an anus clinging tightly to a slick, invading tail, which might have been difficult to discern if it weren’t for the vein running through it or the occasional moment where it came out enough for the viewers at home to get a brief view of the underside of its glans, pretty perfect proof of it being a penis insistently invading innards, namely Troy’s. That camera’s audio manages to pick up the squishing (on the way in) and sucking (on the way out) sounds of sex, the slipping, sliding, the sucking and slurping of a sphincter really, really reluctant to release a really, really big rod. At its shallowest, it was a fearsome sight, a long, thick shaft, ending in a rounded point, slightly penetrating a tight pucker, with nothing stopping it from penetrating deeper, and deeper, until it plumbed the depths entire, pushing aside soft innards in the way. At its deepest, it looked like a horse breeding its mare, a forceful intrusion that almost looked like magic: where did the big penis go? Of course, on the other camera synced up, the grunting of the recipient made it obvious: up the butt, of course. At that deepest intercourse, the testicles of the massively endowed intruder came perilously close to a similar, if slightly smaller structure, on the receiver, but very rarely touched. If the intruder noticed, it’s doubtful he could hazard a guess as to what that was, or that he even cared at this point.

He stuffed his hand under her bra, and felt at her smooth, hairless, feminine chest. He didn’t let the fact that she was incredibly flat-chested bother him; she had more than enough where it counted. She moaned when he felt up her body, which encouraged him do it more.

Nat, of course, was moaning in shock more than anything. Having Troy explore his body and, apparently, approving of how soft and feminine it was would have embarrassing in any circumstance, even if he wasn’t, at the time, rummaging through his backdoor, hands-free. That he was giving Nat a hands-free anal excavation while feeling him up should have been the absolute nadir, but he managed to up the ante (or lower the nadir) a moment later when he grabbed both of Natalie’s wrists, which were already tied overhead, and started to press into Natalie with each thrust, further cementing the notion that, for what the two of them were doing together, they didn’t need to use their hands. What Troy didn’t realize was that, below the waist, he was fucking Natalie’s ass, and “Natalie” was stretching the fabric of their panties, also without hands, because of Troy’s sans-manos prostate stimulation. All he knew was that he had this slut’s hands above her head, and down south he was giving it to her good.

Upping the humiliation was that, being unaccustomed to sex standing up (much less wearing heels), Nat’s calves were getting too sore to use, which wasn’t helped at all by being forced to stand on tippy-toes. This meant holding themselves up with their arm restraints… which their arms quickly became too tired to do, as well. Thus, the only recourse they had was to let themselves go slack… which had the unfortunate added effect of making it look like they were bending over for more. Not that they had a choice whether they got more or not, but they didn’t have to bend over for it. Of course, even when they managed to stand up straight again for a while, that just put them in a different “ready to be ass-fucked” pose, so maybe the bigger issue was just the fact that their poor butt was in use, carnally, for some stupid dude with a big cock’s jollies.

Maybe that was the most humiliating thing, now that he thought about it: while the big oaf was taking his temperature rectally, even though both of his hands were pre-occupied with fondling his hips and “breasts,” (which was enough of a gutpunch to his masculinity; taking someone’s man-meat as a suppository), he was busy measuring the thermometer in the most embarrassing way possible. He had gotten an eyeful of it at the start, and his heart had sunk into his stomach (even moreso when the big palooka seemed to like the way the “girl’s” eyes went wide at the sight of it), but he was sure it had been a trick of perspective. Maybe cocks look bigger when they’re rigid, dripping precum, and sitting next to a box of anal lube, while you’re facing the other direction with your legs forcibly spread and your hands tied helplessly above you? Particularly when they take a step forward, and it wobbles, and you realize that it’s that big for you? Still, he couldn’t deny that even if only “looked” like Godzilla then, it definitely felt like a monster when it was up his cutey-patootey. Halfway in it was cross-eyed constipation, and all the way in it was both a nightmare and a very real rectum full of hot sweaty dick. It was the latter that was weighing on his soul, because there was no way anyone’s rectum would be totally filled by his mystery meat, fistful of Viagra or no. He was absolutely certain it felt bigger sliding up his virgin chute, but “bigger” there meant “fatter,” and it was the length he was so fixated on. Inch by inch it crammed its way into his greased-up billy-butt, and no matter how much he over or under-estimated them, the result was hovering around double digits. “Double” being the appropriate word that got stuck in his head, where if you reversed the relationship, that word would be “half.” The guy was bigger than him, height-wise and bulk-wise, but there was no reason the sausage had to match the meathouse, and yet, unless his stretchy funhole wasn’t the right instrument to measure her ex’s meat-popsicle , (or maybe ‘dipstick’ is more appropriate), the hard truth of it was laid bare: his girlfriend was used to a bratwurst, and he was packing a pickle. And then, to add injury to insult, that very same bratwurst was packing into him, and maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to repeatedly squeeze it to check it for size, because Meathead Rumproaster had taken it as an invitation (or a dare) to pick up the pace, the intensity, and the dirty talk. The latter of which Natalie didn’t even really hear (aside from the occasional “bitch” or “ass-slut”) because all he could hear was the sound of hip slapping up against ass and that his fellow tricked boyfriend was fucking his ass way too hard.

That absentminded period of insecurity and curiosity cost him sorely, literally. He hadn’t noticed that each time he squeezed onto the slowly-spelunking sausage that was porking him between the buns, a spray of precum had been fired off as a warning shot to his bowels that if he didn’t quit it, it was going to assume he really wanted to be a mommy, and it was going to do its very best to make that dream a reality. In other words, he convinced his unwitting paramour that it was time to party, and build up to a big finish, and so he’d gripped onto the buttslut’s hips and started to drive it deep and fast, which made Nat scream a few muffled protests into his gag and try to wriggle out of it before collapsing, inadvertently sticking a shapely butt back at Troy, proving to his stupid, dull mind that she was “really into it.” The display was too hot for Troy, who was already at his limit trying to hold back the inevitable cum enema that he was going to give Natalie, due to the combined factors of Natalie’s seeming willingness to give up her (insanely tight) butthole to a stranger, her unrestrained groans of pleasure, and her shapely, plump butt, a winning combination for a girl. His hips slapped into her fat cheeks and her trampy star sticker over and over again, a wet clapping that understated just how deep she was getting butt-blasted. He gave her a slap on the star, right on her rear, and she tightened up, so he gave it to her harder.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that he was sodomizing an anal virgin, so his fast-paced anus-obliterating thrusts weren’t caused by malice or sadism, but by the simple, genuinely male desire to give a tight, wet hole the best fucking possible, which meant making sure it knew it was being fucked, and maybe leaving it in a state afterward that anyone could tell it had been fucked. With the amount of lube involved, the only thing really resisting his efforts were Natalie’s overtaxed anal rings, which had just about given up, which was fortunate for Nat in that it meant he wasn’t painfully resisting being butt-pumped, but was unfortunate for Nat because it meant he was being butt-pumped at a rate and depth that were normally reserved for anal queens, not first-timers. Of course, it was also unfortunate for Nat in that he was a straight guy, and Troy’s well-meaning anally amorous affections were as unwanted as they were uninvited as they were utterly uncomfortable, which, to put it mildly, was “very” on all counts. Still, when life gives you a big cock up the ass, you make big-cock-up-the-ass-ade, whether you want to or not, and Nat was miserably aware of how close he was to making that hetero butt-sex faux pas known as “jizzing semen while taking it in the ass,” something that was probably far from being on Troy’s radar as a possible outcome of his vigorous “non-vaginal” virgin-busting. He was pumping that ass hard because he thought she wanted it hard, and because her tight, wet, warm hole seemed to be a good place to deposit some DNA, which meant a whole lot of thrusting and not a whole lot of holding-back. If she wanted a cumload in the hole she shat from, who was he to tell her no?

Natalie cursed Troy for not noticing the banana-shaped protrusion in her panties, and herself for filling out Sanka’s panties with a stiff banana. Even worse, the pressure was building, and Natalie knew it was only a matter of time before “she” got off on the intense anal stuffing she was receiving, and it didn’t help that Troy’s hands were clapped onto her sensitive ass-cheeks. He kneaded her butt around his ass-pounding cock, and she got ready to fling the most embarrassing goo of her life, if Troy didn’t shoot off first. As the rocking and slapping continued, the inevitable happened; Natalie doubled over and moaned hoarsely, and spit a thick load through the stretched-thin membrane of the panties pressed against the tip of his cock. Natalie feels a tickle as she’s forced to cum against something, and an obstruction in her bowels as her sphincter tightens. Troy feels her ass clench like a vice, and she shudders through her orgasm, but he can’t possibly see the forward-pointing stain that she produced as semen forced its way through the fabric.

Having inseminated his panties thoroughly, the cream bubbling through and dripping to the floor, Natalie was both exhausted and extremely annoyed when Troy resumed his butt-blasting, not realizing his toy has a refractory period to deal with.

Sanka’s hands worked furiously under her desk. There was little doubt as to whether Nat’s “coercion” fantasies extended all the way up his colon. She had worried his fantasy wouldn’t live up to reality, but when the panties frothed over and she could see them dripping, she smirked. Watching him get off to a random anal stuffing was both hilarious and hot, and she knew she was going to hell. Unlike the other girls, she didn’t necessarily want to leave him, but doubts he’ll want to stick around with the crazy girl that tricked him into playing Buttfucked Bottom to another guy’s Confused Cock. She wondered when she was going to break the news to Troy; before or after he bragged about it? Certainly after he’d finished ravaging his ex’s current boyfriend, and definitely after he’d pumped ‘her’ bowels full of proof-in-the-pudding semen. Maybe she’d be cryptic about it; tell him he’d missed his evolutionary mark. That not only had he left his sperm in the wrong hole, said hole (and makeshift sperm tank) belonged to someone with a Y-chromosome. Even he’d be able to figure that brain teaser out: that he’d butt-stuffed a boy’s booty, that he’d blasted it in boy’s butterhole, basted a boy’s bowels… and that was it, Sanka’s finger-shuffling reached a crescendo and she could barely keep her eyes on the screen as she threw her head back, bit her lip, and trembled even more than her boyfriend currently was.

 

Even though he’d already cum once, Nat could feel it building again. And even though his cock was still drooping down, half-erect, it seemed as if it wouldn’t even get all the way back up before he let it fly again. Now that he wasn’t that hard, the panties pushed it down, and so when his mind went blank, and his head was full of fluff, the second load drips out of his forced open eye into the panties, forming a pool. Getting buttfucked and jizzing through his girlfriend’s panties was bad enough, but blowing a load into her panties like a diaper was just embarrassing.

He could feel his backdoor spasming around Troy as he dripped milk into his panties, and so could Troy. With an embarrassingly loud moan, he started to cum up Nat’s ass, into her belly, without even realizing what was happening for the second time that evening. Feeling the sudden gush, Natalie was flooded inside with semen and shame, and then, after a moment of humiliated, frantic contemplation, resolve. No matter what, she was going to make sure Troy didn’t find out that she was, well, a he, and that no one else would find out about this one, isolated incident. And, she was going to hit Sanka right in the face. She tried to calm her heart as Troy whitewashed her innards, and her asshole as well, so that it’d be loose enough for him to pull free and maybe finish the rest on her back, instead of blowing the whole thing in her creamery.

Nat’s skin was on fire with embarrassment and trapped heat where his butt-assailant pressed up against him. Troy was so insistent that he abandoned all hope of even a partial pull-out finish, and instead waited sullenly for him to finish filling Nat’s fuckhole. Nat was done, no question, which made it even less appealing to have him twitching on the inside, and so when he finally stopped jerking, it was a relief, even though he was still forcing open Nat’s anal walls. When he did slip free with a final slippery noise, Nat discovered that the hole wouldn’t close all the way, much to his chagrin.

Even more chagrining was what he did next. Troy turned Nat’s head, pulled off the tape, and gave his butt-bitch a surprise kiss, making “her” eyes go wide. “She” then just nodded passively without saying anything because “she” didn’t want to be found out. Troy smacked his little anal slut Natalie on the ass, asked “you good?” and “she” nodded again, not wanting him to help untie “her” and find it out. Figuring that meant she wanted him to go, he put on his pants, wiped the lube off on Natalie’s behind, and then left “her” there gaped and cum-filled. Nat was glad he was gone, but was less pleased to be tied up, dressed as a slutty girl, clearly just having finished an anal encounter of the wrong kind. He dreaded someone walking in and thinking he was some kind of pervert who took it in the ass, instead of some kind of pervert who took it in the ass incidentally. He could feel the heat and wetness that Troy had left somewhere deep in his bowels, and dwelled on the uncomfortable fact that before Troy had arrived, that and the slightly-open state of his anus hadn’t been like that.

Nat was in a half-conscious haze of post-sex uncertainty. Unable to get out of the bindings, it was only a matter of time before the boyhole that Troy had unwittingly plugged expelled his creamy consolation prize, which ran down Nat’s thigh. That was the last thing Sanka’s little webshow saw before she went offline, her heart racing. She was almost as confused as Nat was.

What was she going to do next?


	4. You're Dumped: Cheater's Lament

"You said you wanted to experiment with femdom..."

"I didn't mean a literal experiment," he said, stripping down in her lab, somewhat reluctantly.

She had never been interested in femdom before. She had said that she would be willing to try it, but he could never figure out how to bring it up. When he finally met a domme... well, he was still with her, technically, but even if she hadn't found out about it, he would have still broken it off. Maybe.

Now, after a month apart, she invited him to her lab for a booty call... and he was pretty sure he knew whose booty was on the line. To head off any "fucked by the football" team scenarios, he'd agreed to it under one condition - no butt stuff. She had said that was just fine.

"Put your clothes over there. Don't worry, you'll get them back," she said, although he wasn't sure he believed it.

He looked at the station she was pointing at... there was barely any room to put his clothes. There were empty jugs and bottles and plastic medical cups and bowls... he'd never seen her lab so cluttered and messy. There was also a large machine covered with a tarp that he was pretty sure hadn't been there the last time he visited - although it was possible he'd forgotten.

"It feels a little weird to be naked when you're still dressed," he said, eyeing her mini-skirt. She wasn't exactly dressed the part of a domme, but then, she wasn't wearing her usual clothes either. Her skirt under her under-sized labcoat had a very low cut, her pencil skirt left little of her curves to the imagination, and her boots had high-heels - definitely not her usual style.

"Relax. I'm not going to keep you naked. You're wearing this," she said, pulling two glossy orange pieces of fabric down from a shelf. She handed them, folded, to him, and when he let them unfold, his eyes went wide. It was neon-orange leotard with matching stockings.

"Why am I wearing this, exactly?"

"It's slutty. And, importantly, this fabric stretches."

"Why is that important?" he said, pulling the leotard over his head.

"You'll see. Let's just say that a container sometimes has to stretch to contain its contents. Here, let me put up your hair."

"Why?"

"To get you into the mood."

"The mood... hey, I said nothing in my butt."

"Oh, sweetie. I can say 100% that I'm not going to put anything up your butt. Although you might wish I had. Here, put on your stockings."

He sat on the cold floor of the lab and instantly regretted it, a chill going up his spine. He had a hard time figuring out the proper orientation of the stockings until it clicked what was wrong - they were one contiguous garment. There was no way he could walk if he put them on.

"What's the matter? You like bondage, right?"

Still reluctant, he slipped into them, not without difficulty.

"Here, I'll help you onto your knees," she said, although he wanted to be on his knees even less - with his legs underneath him, he would have a hard time getting up on his own. "Now for your hands, going to wrap them up tight..."

He'd never seen such sturdy looking tape. It must have been industrial grade - she wrapped it around and around his arms until they were bound together, and he found that, at least, a casual attempt to rip them apart proved fruitless.

"Can you stand?" she asked, and he found that he could not, while she retrieved something from a drawer. "Good. Now, say ahhh," she instructed, and he didn't recognize what the cylinder in her hand was for until she brought one end of it towards his mouth - she'd fused it to a ring-gag. Before he could protest, it was in his mouth, and he couldn't spit it out - with his hands bound, he couldn't remove it at all. "Now this locks behind your teeth. This is crucial."

"Cuushal?" he said, around the cylinder.

"Yes. We're going to be doing some force-feeding play. A little... dietary experiment. And there's no point in me setting this all up if you can just close your mouth, is there?"

He looked at her nervously. This hadn't been what he'd had in mind. She walked over to the tarp and, with a dramatic flourish, pulled it off with both hands. It was... well, he didn't know what it was, but it had an obvious mix of DIY features, industrial parts from some now-defunct machines, and a terminal hooked up to it - he'd seen her messing around with breadboards and those small, self-contained computers before, but she had never had it interacting with something so large.

"Wahs sat?" he said, around the cylinder.

"What does it say? The Spermotron 5000! There are some perks to being an engineer, after all. If I need an impromptu, programmable pump mechanism affixed to a tank, I can just build it."

"...whah?"

"You said before that you wouldn't mind a little domination play... so let's play. Although I don't think you're going to like this game very much..." she said, as she emptied some peroxide into a cotton ball. She picked up a hose that had been attached to the machine and rubbed the bare end with the cotton ball, then discarded it on the floor. Whatever her plan was, she seemed to be in a hurry... or excited.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached him with the hose, and leaning over him with a sinful smile on her face, she screwed it into the other end of the cylinder that was locked in his mouth.

"Perfect. You're being such a good boy. Keep that up" she said, lightly tapping his cheek twice. "Because otherwise... you're going to have a real bad time."

With that, she lifted a hood on the machine, revealing the "tank" she'd mentioned - literally a glass tank that resembled a giant snowglobe. She ran her finger along it, then turned to face him, smirking.

"See all that goo? What do you think it is?"

He peered into the tank. It was goopy and inconsistent... white and a tinge of yellow. It couldn't be...

"Don't worry, it's not really what you think it is. I hope I got the consistency right... I couldn't get the taste, but it definitely looks the part, right?"

She... made that? A tank full of... well, who knew what. But it definitely looked like... he shuddered. Seeing the contents of the tank, and the hose that led from the machine to the cylinder in his mouth, some very unpleasant images flashed through his mind. After they resolved, he was left looking at his ex... and by the look on her face, it seemed as if she could read his mind.

"Ready? I'm going to get into character. Okay?"

He nodded, somewhat hesitant.

"Good boy. Or... should I say... cum-guzzling slut?" she added, her voice sultry, as she approached him... her hand playing with his pigtail, then caressing his face. She bent down, her face close to his, and smiled, showing her teeth. "Oh. You didn't like that? Are you not a cum-guzzling slut?" she said, emphasizing the "c" in "cum" and the "slut" in "slut".

He shook his head.

"That's right. You're so right. You've never guzzled cum, right? You've never felt it sliding down your throat, into your belly," she said, trailing her finger down his throat, his chest, his abdomen. "Well... not -yet-," she said, spreading her fingers on his belly, digging them in slightly so it was like she was grabbing hold of it.

She walked over to the tank again and tapped it like she was bugging the fish in an aquarium.

"There's billions of them, swimming in there. Know where I got it? Well, a lot of places, actually. Mostly just volunteers... jacking off into bowls," she said, and the clutter around the lab suddenly made sense.

Only, it didn't, because this was all play-acting. Whatever it was that was in that tank, it had never been in those bowls. But that seemed like a lot of work to go through just for the sake of authenticity...

"They just threw it all away like it didn't matter. They just wanted to get their rocks off. But I'm going to put it to use. Testing this tank I built... and giving you a little -taste - of your own medicine. Although, calling it medicine is a little bit of a stretch. Maybe it'll cure of your naughty ways."

She rubbed her hand on the tank and made eye-contact with him, giggling.

"Let's see if your taste buds can pick out which guy provided each gooey drop of your special dinner."

At that, he rebelled. He started to pull away from the hose - but found that it wouldn't come loose. She grabbed for his chin, and he stayed still... then she let her hand fall from his face, and reached on top of the machine, grasping for something, which she quickly found.

"Let me explain why you should be obedient. See this controller? It has two buttons - well, three, but you don't have to worry about that one," she said, showing him the controller she'd procured from the top of the machine. He fixed his focus on it, and saw that it indeed had three buttons... one was "off", one was marked with a cute drawing of a... sperm... and the other was marked with a skull and crossbones, which her finger hovered over. "This pipe will pump all that gungy splooge into your mouth in one go if I press THIS button. You. Do Not. Want Me. To Press. This Button. That's over four gallons of gooey nut-butter you don't want in your stomach, or else they'll have to pump it back out or else you'll overdose on semen. You wouldn't want to drink that much of anything, much less a bunch of guy's runny ejaculate. That is, unless you have a confession to make? Thought not. Seriously, though, I don't care how much of a submissive little bitch you are, this button is a punishment. This button is regret. If I press this button, you've made me very mad. And if I press this button, you definitely won't like me anymore.

This button, on the other hand, pumps a pint in total over the course of thirty seconds. You also don't want me to press this button. That's enough to make you turn green, enough to make you sick. That's more cum than anyone you know has ever swallowed. That's hardcore cum guzzling. You'll have enough spermies swimming around in your tummy that you might actually get pregnant. It'll fill your mouth, but there'll be too much to not swallow. You'll gag it down while trying not to think about the dozens of cocks that went into making your cocksnot soup. Your baby-goo yogurt. Your cum smoothie. We've kept it warm so it'll taste fresh, so you better hope it hasn't spoiled. One press of this button and you'll be burping cum. Two and you'll be crying tears of sperm. Three and you'll fucking LOOK pregnant. By the fourth, you will be. This button means I own you."

His breathing became erratic. He had to remind himself... it was all play. Still, even if it was... swallowing that much of anything would be an ordeal. She was right - he didn't want her to press either button. Satisfied that she'd made this clear, she turned back to the tank.

"Wow... all that gooey, runny, bubbly cum looks really gross, doesn't it? It's soooo slimy... and there are so many pubic hairs floating in it, ewww! Don't worry, there's a filter on the pump... right here. Hrm. You know what...  
you look like a pube-eater to me," she said, removing the filter. "Pube-catcher, gone. Guess that means you'll be a pube-swallower. What do you think? Too mean? Too bad."

She tossed the filter aside, and he shook his head, as she turned to face him.

"Don't worry. They're not REAL pubes. That would be really gross", she said, licking her lips. Then, she bent over, leaning in close to his face, her finger on the button marked with a sperm. "But I think I've talked enough for now, don't you? Let's get started. Hey... remember that time you cheated on me?" she said, and then as his eyes opened wide in horror, she clicked the button. "I do!"

The machine hummed to life, a ga-shunk ga-shunk sound as the pump began working, and he saw a big bubble rise to the surface and pop with an audible "glorp". The hose connected to it started to traverse the white-and-clear runny mix of slime that she was pretending was a frathouse worth of semen.

As the hose began to fill up, bringing the "cum" and "pubic hairs" at the forefront closer to his forced-open mouth, he began to get anxious.

"Get ready, here it comes! Get ready to swallow all that fake semen. Know where it's going? In. Your. Mouth! So gulp it all down!"

The hose emptied into a hard, clear cyclinder which was forcing his mouth open, which began to fill with glob after steaming, runny, goopy glob of the fake semen concoction. It definitely -looked- authentic, he could see up close, with thick, sperm-filled blobs that were the result of a long-overdue ejaculation, and runny, clear slime that accompanied it and was the result of a less sperm-injected fun time. In addition, as it began to fill and rise in the cylinder toward his worried tongue, while it was soupy, there clearly were separate contributions visible. And lastly, he noticed, as the moment of truth approached - it definitely -smelled- like an over-used wank sock.

And with that thought, the first dollop spurted onto his tongue, and while it was quick followed by more that began to pool in his mouth, under his tongue and on it, he had enough time in the eternity between that to have a possible revelation.

"How's that taste? Is it good? Do you like the taste of freshly squeezed baby batter?"

The taste was... salty. Very salty. But... she said she couldn't get the taste... His eyes went wide. It couldn't be. No, NO! More of it pumped into his mouth, the cylinder full like a baby's bottle, as he turned to look up at her with shock.

"Did you really think this was all fake semen, dumbass? You stupid fuck. That is too funny." His cheeks began to bulge as he tried not to swallow the foul mix as more and more were pumped into his mouth. "Yeah, it's a little too late for that. Fine, try not to swallow. It's got nowhere to go but your poor tummy."

She was right. His cheeks were quickly full to bursting. It was both runny and gooey, salty and bitter, and he could swear he could feel the billion wriggling sperm on his tongue. It didn't taste or feel anything like cream - too watery, and too many pubic hairs in the mix.

"That must taste so gross. Can you feel all the little spermies on your tongue? How's that cocksnot taste?"

Snot was right. Whatever she was pumping into his mouth, it wasn't edible. He tried to bite the cylinder closed, but to no avail. He felt his cheeks filling more and more and his eyes began to squint at the sheer bitterness. Finally, the pump stopped, but to his dismay, the semen wouldn't go back into the hose, and the cylinder was too full to take any more that he was keeping in his mouth and cheeks.

"Wow, there is a lot of jizz in your mouth right now. It's like you just blew fifty guys at once, isn't it? If you had sucked off a whole football team you wouldn't have as much in your mouth. There are girls who have gone down on  
both the home and away team who needed mouthwash after less than you do. If you keep it in your mouth too long your tongue is going to get pregnant. Get your tonsils wet already. Seriously, your mouth is full of at least a half hundred loads. It's gross. Your teeth are probably coated."

He couldn't believe what she was saying. Like he just blew 50 guys? Where did she even get that much? It couldn't be real. But the texture...

"Ooh yeah, it's gooey, right? How's that man chowder taste? Are you picturing all the cocks that spewed that out? Just twitching and then... well, what's in your mouth. Except you must have about fifty creamy loads in there.  
50 guys getting their rocks off, flinging their gross goo... and now it's all in your mouth. How does their sperm slime taste? Was it worth it? Did she make you cum 50 times?"

She clicked the button again at the mention of "she". The machine revved to life again, and soon even more of it was pumping into his mouth, and he groaned, eyes wide, his cheeks too full to take any more.

"Do you not like the taste of cum? Aww, too bad. You're going to be tasting so much of it. And drinking it. It's got no where else to go but down. Like a cock in your throat spitting it into your stomach. Swallow or drown, your call."

She pinched his nose shut, and that was it, he couldn't take it any more - he closed his eyes, and gulped down. The slimy stuff ran down his throat and into his stomach, still warm, and she released his nose. He gagged as he tried to swallow more, and his nose started to run... but he realized that it was actually semen coming out of his nose like milk. If that image wasn't pathetic enough, he heard a click, and he saw that she'd whipped out her phone and taken a picture of him, nose dribbling cocksnot and all.

"Chug chug. God, you're so fucked... look at you... little cum guzzler. Little nutcream gobbler. You know what they call girls who drink as much semen as you are? Nothing. Nobody has ever gulped down that much hot sperm sauce in one sitting. Except for you. So keep swallowing. We've got a record to set. 'Biggest idiot to swallow the most fresh semen'".

He swallowed again, and again, but the pump just replaced what he swallowed with even more. She spotted the bulge between his legs before he could hide it with his bound arms.

"Can't help but notice you've got a big boner right now. Pervert. How many of those guys whose loads are in your mouth do you think would be happy to see that? The person chugging down their loads popping a boner."

She looked him square in the face, her eyes wild. She was all but confirming it.

"FYI, this is real cum, by the way. Every spoonful was some guy tossing off into a collection dish or bowl. And I didn't supervise all the collection... I outsourced a bit. At a buck an ounce, it's tempting to find other sources, and it all passed the sniff test, so it's definitely semen... you get what I'm saying, right? I'm saying that, in small way, you're supporting local farmers. That's four gallons of semen, alright, but it's almost certainly  
not 100% mangoo. When a girl drives out to a farm and comes back with a bottle of splooge, chances are she didn't find the world's horniest farmhand, you know?"

The last batch had been all but swallowed... and she clicked again.

"Horse semen, bull semen, pig semen... hell, a few girls probably got Fido in the mix, too. Don't worry, though, any of the stuff I thought was... farm fresh, let's say, I dumped in last, so it's probably still mostly at the top, and the pump sucks all the wriggling spermies and their goo from the bottom.  
Another very, very good reason not to make me press the bad button. Not unless you've got a particularly sick craving, that is. Do you? Do you want to guzzle a half-gallon of pig semen, piggy?"

He shook his head vehemently, but she stopped him by grabbing his chin as the next creamy batch made first contact with his tongue, making him gag. Then she put her fingers in his nostrils, forcing him to swallow.

"Then keep swallowing, piggy. You don't have to worry. Even if you swallow down filthy animal semen, it won't affect my opinion of you. Keep drinking, loser."

The idea of drinking raw animal semen was combining with his disgust at glugging down a whole quart of human semen to make him green in the face. He didn't know how much he could take.

"Wow, you don't look so good. You look like you're going to puke up all that tasty mangoo. Let's wash it down. With more mangoo. *click*"

It wasn't long before his cheeks filled again - he couldn't swallow any more. She jammed her fingers into his nostrils again.

"Do not puke, or I'll press this button, I swear it," she said, her thumb hovering over the button marked with a skull.

He struggled to let it all run down his throat, while she gloated.

"Is it gross because of the taste, the texture, or the knowledge that some guy blew his fucking load into a bowl and now you're drinking it? Some of these guys had massive wads... don't worry, I made sure not to spill any that I personally handled."

At "personally handled", he looked up at her.

"Oh, I wasn't the only collector. Some girls got their boyfriends to donate... I know at least one party had your dinner tonight as its theme. And you know... all those juicy cocks... I know some of the girls couldn't resist a little suck. So some of that is pure, post-fellatio snowball. It's almost like you're indirectly kissing them! Or indirectly sucking off their boyfriends, I guess."

She paused to let that sink in.

"You see, unlike you, none of them swallowed. If they got a nice, creamy load in their mouth, it went right into the bowl... and then, into the Spermotron," she said, and then gave the machine a hard pat as it pumped out more of the spooge she was describing. I've got a list of names here of the guys who contributed - want to see if you recognize any of them? Put a face to the taste?"

He was turning redder by the second - although not enough to totally wash out the green.

"Hey, let's play another game... hold up your fingers," she said, and he timidly raised his hand. "I want you to pick a number. The number you hold up is the number of times I'm gonna press this button in a row. Before you hold up one, though... that wouldn't be much of game, would it? So I'm gonna roll a die, after you hold up those fingers. And if I roll higher than the number you picked... I'm gonna press this button instead," she said... and she didn't need to tap the skull button for him to understand, but she did anyway, and he cringed, worried that it would register. Thankfully, the machine finished pumping, and died down again.

He wasn't in a very good thinking state - most of what was in his head was gooey jizz, but he tried to puzzle it out. Even if he picked 5... she might roll a 6. And if he picked 5 and she rolled lower, that was over a half gallon of semen he was drinking for no reason. Still, he couldn't risk the animal jizz, no matter what. Minimizing that risk held precedent over anything else. Knowing that he was sealing his fate, he held up five fingers.

She squatted next to him, and then rolled the die on the floor... he watched it tumble with trepidation - if it was six, he was completely screwed. To his relief, and then his frustration, when it came to a stop, he saw it - one pip.

"Hah. Oh well. Clicky clicky," she said clicking once, twice, thrice, four times... five times. The pump revved up and started to pump it through the pipe again, still stained with the previous batches, while she rubbed his belly  
sadistically. "If you thought drinking half a gallon one pint at a time was bad... chugging over half a gallon, who does that? Maybe... someone who loves the taste? You did ask for five helpings, after all. Maybe you just wanted to fill your tummy after all. Ooh, here it comes... try not to think about all the guys that must have contributed to your meal," she taunted, right as half a dozen guy's worth of semen flooded into his mouth, followed by several dozen more.

Glug. Glug. Glug. He couldn't keep down that much -water-, much less slimy jizz. Not only was it upsetting his stomach, the thought of drinking so much spunk... picturing the "production" of such a slurry - he'd seen videos of girls collecting a dozen guy's loads into a bowl, and not once had it looked appetizing.

"A gallon! That's at least a thousand loads worth!"

After several minutes, the pump died down, and he swallowed what he could... until all that was left was trapped in the cylinder.

"Oooh, that was fun. What a waste. You just drank so much baby juice. And you're just ruining your diet. How will you keep your girlish figure if you chug this much man-milk? Hey, you look like you're still thirsty," she said, and then, she stuck out her tongue, and he heard a *click*.

The last batch was even harder to handle. His tongue and teeth were thoroughly coated, and he couldn't bring himself to swallow fast, as it made him gag every time. By the time the pump stopped again, he was seeing double.

"Aw... poor baby. Do you want something to settle your stomach?"

He didn't know where the mercy had come from, but he nodded. Even if she didn't give him anything useful, at least it meant she was going to leave him alone for a bit.

*click*

"How about semen?" she asked, as the machine revved up again, and his stomach turned over. "Remember... keep it all down. There's so much more for you to drink. That's right, I'm gonna pump it all into this gluttonous little stomach of yours. A bellyful of splooge. Your tiny tummy, swollen with sperm. Still glad you cheated on me?" she said, giving him a wicked smile, tapping his rapidly filling stomach with her toe. I'm not upset, you know. I don't really care. If you wanted to break up, that would have been fine. But you got all drunk on sperm and went behind my back... and I just thought that if you like being sperm-drunk so much, I should be the one to do it. Drink down all that lust..."

As his mouth filled up - he could barely swallow anymore, she started to talk to herself... while clicking at random. Soon, he'd swallowed almost two gallons, and his stomach felt ready to pop.

"Hopefully there are no condoms floating around in there... like eggshells in a batter. I dumped a ton of used condoms in there, but I think I didn't accidentally drop any in. Hrm, you don't look bothered by the mention of condoms. Let me explain: when a man loves his hand very much, he shoots off a fresh wad into a bowl that you eventually eat. When that man is wearing a condom, on the other hand, all their dick sweat is rubbing along the inside like a used sock... or, well, like a used condom. When I empty the scum out of it, all that lovely dick sweat comes with it. Oh, hey, do you know what smegma is? It's dick cheese. And I've got to thank those hobos, they--"

It was too much. He didn't hear the rest of her sentence - he just filled the hose with also-ran semen. Apparently, his gag reflex was strong enough to push out past the plug.

She looked down at him, a mix of menace and mischief on her face. He'd never seen her smile so broadly... or wildly. Her finger caressed the skull and crossbone button... and his still-full stomach turned in place.

"Oooh... too bad, honey. Did my mentioning all the smelly hobo semen you just drank upset your little tummy? What did I tell you? Guess you get the farm sampler. You're about to make a lucky piggy's day..." she said, thumb about to press the other button. His eyes went wide... and then she clicked.

But the machine stayed dormant.

"Idiot. Did you think I would really make you drink 3 gallons of cum? Did you really think I'd make you drink like a gallon of farm animal semen? Do you have any idea how sick that'd be? How sick you would be? You barely lasted through  
swallowing a gallon of the good stuff. Your reaction was great, though. You really thought I was going to make you swallow down enough semen to repopulate the earth? I seriously don't even know where the rest of this came from.  
Is it safe to drink kangaroo and elephant semen? The bull semen would be a treat. Some squealing boar contributed a bucket full. And there's a stallion or ten's worth in there, definitely. You'd never get the taste out of your mouth."

Despite his nausea, he relaxed. He knew that she was going to press the sperm button at least another time, after a speech like that. But if she wasn't going to, maybe she was just play acting after all. Maybe it had all been really convincing fake cum after all. Maybe he hadn't swallowed thousands of loads.

"Just kidding. It takes two clicks. Safety feature, she said, grinning. She held up the remote... and clicked the 'bad' button again. To his utter horror, the pump activated.

It wasn't like before. The hose looked so full that it might rupture, which he definitely hoped as the cum rushed up it towards his undefended mouth. Unfortunately, it seemed to be fine, and soon the rush of gooey sperm goo filled his mouth once more.

The pump was clearly working on overdrive, spewing out huge, thick blobs into his mouth at a rate faster than he could even swallow them. Soon, the hose backed up, and a bubble formed that pressed against his face, wrapped around the hard cylinder in his mouth, but the pump kept pumping.

She pressed a button on the machine, and a thin red line was projected onto the tank. It slowly dropped towards the bottom.

"Just so you know, anything above that line IS animal semen. You'll notice the change in taste. And I'm going to take a picture of your face as you swallow your first heaping helping of pig semen. You think humans had big, tasty loads for you to drink? Well, they do, so keep drinking up... but after that, it's farm fresh time."

She took out her phone and started to take pictures. The line got closer and closer to the bottom of the tank - by the time he'd swallowed the second gallon, and it was half of the remainder, she'd finished rattling off some of the "stars" that had contributed to his liquid meal - and as the line neared the bottom, he could see her anticipation building. When it touched, she was visibly shaking with excitement.

The semen now being pumped through the tube... was a different color. And the sound of it being pumped was different - the density was wrong.

"The man says... 'ooh yeah, swallow that nut baby'" she mimed, in a husky voice. "The pig says..." she said, and then thumbed her nose to resemble a pig's snout, and snorted, and oinked, and snorted, and oinked... he wasn't sure if it was a faithful rendition of a boar cumming, but as the differently-colored semen approached, he had more important things to think about.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the inhuman gunge first pumped into his mouth - it tasted the part, that part being a sludge of various animal breeding slime, whipped into a slurry that somehow tasted more foul than the three gallons of man-slime he'd just been forced to ingest - some of it was so thin and runny that his cheeks instantly filled with it, and some of it was so thick and chewy that he'd have to chew to swallow it, and his teeth risked getting impregnated in the process. He wondered which animal contributed which kind, right before his senses returned and he realized his face was utterly full of farm animal penis milk, and he felt like he was going to be violently sick.

She continued to snort and oink in faux-ecstasy right until the moment that the changing of the guard took place... at which point, she reverted into a human.

"Yeah, fill that mouth up with piglet goo! 'Oink, oink'! That's what your new boyfriend said as he filled up the tank! Are you thinking 'oink, oink' as it fills up your stupid mouth?! Or is your heart set on swallowing horse semen? Huh? Which is it?"

While his mouth was completely full, he couldn't safely swallow without chewing through the particularly thick stuff - and so, panicked, he did. He was being forced to masticate some animal's masturbate offerings - and he was still rock hard.

"Yeah, that's the pig goo alright. They spew out a thick load at the end to plug up the sow's womb... so make sure to chew it all up, so it doesn't plug up your throat."

With a great reluctance, he gulped it down... and instantly regretted it. It was so pungent that he could feel it gurgling in his stomach - which, at that point, was too full of human semen to properly handle anything else, much less animal semen.

True to her word, she snapped another picture.

"Oh god, that's so gross -I- might puke. It must taste so disgusting... how much would you pay me to rip out that hose right now? Well, too bad... swallow down all that animal sperm into your useless little belly... and then beg me not to tell anyone that you drank pig jizz by the slimy cup. That was supposed to end up in some sow's belly, you know. Well, I guess it did after all. I wish I had the cups full of pig semen to show you. I'm sure some of it was top quality. Drink down those potential piglets, you pathetic fuck. You're going to get queasy whenever you hear Old Mcdonald from now on. 'And on this farm he had a cow, e-i-e-i-o. With a moo moo moo here and an unf unf there, here a splurt, there a cup, everywhere a nut nut...' and presto! Your dinner. Slurp it all down, jizzfiend."

He slurped and sputtered and gagged and retched as it felt like cum was being pumped directly into his stomach.

"Think your guts will end up pregnant with a chimera? Keep gulping it down and you might end up mommy to a mythological beast."

He swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed. There was no point in trying to stop it - although he did occasionally have to chew through what he now knew was piggy-pregnant-promise jizz.

"Your tummy is so full... it looks like it might pop. Are you pregnant, or just a hungry little piggy?" she said, pressing her heel to his distended belly, making him squirm. "We need to get some of that semen out of you, or you're going to explode," she continued, and lowered her heel until she found the bulge in his unitard. "Not the semen in your belly, though. That stays."

She reached down and grabbed hold of the bulge between her thumb and forefinger, and stroked it.

"Still hard after all that gross animal semen? I guess you really must be a pervert. Or maybe... you're a farm animal too. Is that it? Do you need to be milked? Do I need to get a cup to hold your mating urges?" she said, continuing to stroke him... although soon, she wouldn't have time to get a cup.

He felt the urge rising... even as he gulped down mouthfuls of bull semen and horse semen and who knows what else, he couldn't help it. As she stroked him, he was going to cum - and cum fast.

"No... actually... farm animals don't drink animal cum. I guess that means you're lower than an animal..." she said, and she stopped stroking, to his dismay. He continued to chug down what he could, more and more spilling out of the corner of his mouth, as she removed her right boot, and then, her sock.

She pressed her bare foot to his groin... and he wanted her to rub it up and down so badly that he audibly whined.

"Is that it? Is this how something less than an animal gets off? With a foot? Well then, show me. Show me what you think it takes to reproduce."

As soon as she started to rub it up and down, he knew he wasn't going to be able to last long. It throbbed and twitched with a need to blow... something that his stomach, at the moment, could strongly relate to.

"Are you going to try and get my foot pregnant? Are you? Go ahead, try... but there's a better chance you'll get pregnant, at this point..."

He was beyond the point of no return. He was chugging animal semen and about to orgasm, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Yeah, fire off that useless semen while you chug down horse cum! Cum like a good cum swallower! What does the cow say? Huh? Say it!"

He couldn't hold it in. He knew what the cow "said". It was in his mouth. And he gave her the answer she was looking for. It spurted into the air and coated her foot as a good cup of warm animal jizz spurted into his mouth.

"Good boy! The cow is a bull, so he doesn't say anything - he just fills a fucking jar with spunk, and I pump it into your cheating mouth while you cum! Keep going! Got any more, huh? Gonna pay me back for my gracious deposit? You got it all over my foot, are you going to lick it off? Or do you only drink cum that you didn't shoot? Do you like drinking a piggy's load while you cum? Huh? Do you?"

Her hair was frazzled, and her hand was between her legs - it was obvious that she was on her own high as well. He could see it running down her thigh.

"Keep swallowing! Swallow all of it! Goat, pig, horse, cow, dog, I don't care! Drink it all down until your stomach looks pregnant! Swallow my revenge, you little cum guzzling fuck!" she said, her leg quivering, her knees giving out under her.

Her face was flushed with sweat. She watched him struggle to keep drinking it all down, green in the face, and put her face close to his, breathing erratically.

"Mmm... I was going to say you're dumped... but... we don't have to break up, you know. I forgive you. What do you say?" she asked, pushing his hair out of his face. He looked at her, horrified. "Either that, or this is a farewell present," she said pressing her hand against his bloated stomach. "Enjoy."

When all was said and done, his stomach was hugely distended, and sloshed about from any movement. As soon as she unhooked the hose, he burped, looking listless.

"Wow, you look ready to burst," she said, tapping his swollen belly, which made him turn even greener. "It's like you've blown thousands of guys... now that I think about it, your lips just did more cheating than you ever did on your own. Oh well."

She wiped her wet foot off on his face, and then put her sock and boot back on, while he watched, utterly stuffed with cum in the guts.

"Are we through? Or have you learned the error of your ways? I'll even cook you dinner. Doesn't that sound nice?"

He nodded, defeated. She opened up a floor cabinet and pulled out a bucket, then placed it in front of his knees.

"Puke out what you can. Next time I tell you to behave, you behave, or I'll have you begging to drink semen instead."

She picked the remote off the floor and put it between her breasts for safe-keeping.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to be cooking dinner, I have some farms to visit."


End file.
